


Unexpected Grace

by jillyfae



Series: Warden Blues [2]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Ficlet Collection, Friendship, Grey Wardens, M/M, Multi, Romance, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-30
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2017-12-21 22:23:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/905637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jillyfae/pseuds/jillyfae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's difficult, adjusting to the perils of being a Grey Warden.  But sometimes, the people you find along the way help make every step easier, even after you have to leave everything else behind.</p><p>(This is a short-fic collection, not a multi-chaptered story. It may or may not remain in chronological order.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Language

“ _Andraste’s tits!”_

Nathaniel coughed, almost spilling his potentially scalding hot tea right into his lap.  He hadn’t expected the demure young new recruit to swear like that, especially not so loudly, and almost directly into his ear.

A glance sideways showed her shaking her hands above her plate, her mug off to the side.  "Sorry," she muttered as she caught his eye.  "Tea."  A nod towards her mug made him notice the crack this time, and another glance at her face showed a trail of liquid along her chin and a stream of wet spots across her blouse.

"Very hot tea, yes."  He tried not smile too broadly, even as he handed her his napkin. “My sympathies."

Bethany smiled, something small and tight and guarded, and still it made her eyes shine, and as she tilted her chin to look down at her blouse, blotting with the cloth, he saw one drop of tea slide along her jaw, hovering for just a moment before it slowly started to trail down her neck, and his sleeves felt tight and his mouth went dry and he wanted to lean in close and follow the path with his mouth and lick that last drop off her skin.

Instead he turned away, felt a cough rasp past his throat as he waited for her to finish.

"Thank you."  Her voice was soft again, her head ducked down as if she was trying to hide behind the thick soft curtain of black hair that lay against her cheek.

He nodded, unable to think of what else to say, of how else to draw out that flash of spirit he’d glimpsed in her eyes.  "You’re welcome."

He watched her withdraw even further, the curve of her shoulders as she hunched over her plate.  She licked her lips, and he almost sighed, and then she nodded tightly and stood, picking up her plate and retreating across the Hall to turn her dishes back in to the kitchen, without even a whispered ‘good-bye’ to mark her passing.


	2. Darkness

Bethany had hated being here for so long, she wasn't sure when the grudging respect she'd felt for the man had changed into something else.

They'd run into each other occasionally, of course, the world of a Warden being both larger than she'd ever imagined, (travel and secrets and duty and politics), and smaller than she could stand, (always darkspawn, always taint, always nightmares and blood and too few other people who could feel what you felt).

And then Stroud had had to go to Weisshaupt, and she'd moved in at Vigil's Keep, unable to decide if that meant she was regressing back to her childhood, doomed to repeat the horrors of her life over and over, or if it was nice to be somewhere that felt warm and familiar...

And there was Howe, quiet and strong and smart and always sympathetic, not that he'd admit it out loud.  He was too tall for the library chairs, despite the fact that they'd used to belong to him.  And yet he'd be there, at odd hours of the day or night, that nose of his almost hidden among books or scrolls.

Just like her.

Though her profile was not nearly as striking, being stuck with a rather tiny little rabbit's nose, herself.

Not that she was noticing his profile.

Or wondering what he thought of hers.

Of course not.

They ended up fighting together, behind the more traditional warriors, arrows and magic better from a distance.  They even figured out how to time her fire and his arrows so flame soared through the darkness, arcs of light and heat.

And every thing died, just as they'd planned, and he shot her such a look, dark pride and joy in darker eyes and she was suddenly so very hot, hotter than the fire that had just left her staff, breath caught in her throat and thighs pushed tight together, her Warden blues heavy against her skin.

She tried to pretend it was just heightened blood and adrenalin; she had succumbed to the desperate need to prove herself alive after a hard-fought battle more than once with other men, in other fights, but even then she knew it was Nathaniel.

She wondered when things had changed, when she'd taken enough pride in her strength and her duties that she could also take pride in his.  When the Wardens had become a people that empowered, rather than punished.

She wondered what it would be like, to whisper his name in the darkness, and have him respond with her own.


	3. omake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This takes place during _No Regrets_ ; I couldn't quite get the pacing to work in the story, but this is part one of the actual threesome in Sebastian's bed.

Bethany fell back upon the bed, a flush of heat and desire making her dizzy as Sebastian crawled above her, shifting his weight until his knees were braced beside her hips, his weight balanced on one side to leave one hand free.  
  
His fingers were warm as he lifted her hand in his.  He kissed her palm first, and then that brush of lips against the inside of her wrist again, enough to make her suddenly aware of the beat of her heart, heat beneath her skin.  He was close, so close, warmth and weight above her as he lifted his head from her wrist, his eyes dark as he watched her face, his fingers strong as he lifted her hand still further, until it settled against the blanket above her head, his fingers still wrapped around hers.  
  
His lips were soft and gentle against her neck, her jaw, his breath humming against her skin as she tilted her head back against the bed.  Her eyes blinked closed, her free hand lifting to rest against his chest, hard and hot and broad beneath her fingers.  
  
He smelled nice, like soap and silk and leather, clean and brisk and male.  Similar to Nate, when they’d managed a quiet day at the Keep without the ever unpleasant eau de darkspawn, but different enough to make her chest ache with anticipation.  

She twisted her hand, starting to tug up on his shirt, wanting to feel his skin.  She felt Sebastian’s breath catch, hot behind her ear, and then his lips, a light brush against her cheek right before his mouth reached her lips.

He was sweet, for a heartbeat, two, the kiss soft and tantalizing, his fingers trailing gently down her arm before his palm settled along her jaw.  
  
Bethany lifted her chin, opening her mouth as his tongue pushed between her lips, her hands fisting in his shirt as she pulled herself up against him, her hips trapped beneath him as he leaned in, pushing her down into the bed.  She moaned deep in her throat, kissing him hard, trying for more, more lips, more tongue, more of his weight pressed against her.    
  
He pulled back with a sharp jerk, and that time she did whine, too tightly pinned by his body, the weight of his chest, his hand spread across her neck and jaw, to follow the motion.  It took the sound of his groan and two blinks before she realized his neck was too taut, his body tense because of Nate’s hand gripped tight in his hair, pulling them apart.  
  
“Not that I don’t enjoy the show,” her hips jerked, rubbing against Sebastian, the soft catch of his breath barely audible beneath the rough dark rasp of Nate’s voice, almost a growl, “but may I join in?”  
  
Sebastian’s hands loosened as he blinked in agreement, the glide of his fingers down her body the only warning before his entire body went loose and lifted away from her, following the pull of Nate’s fingers, twisting until they were facing each other, balanced above her on the bed.    
  
She watched them kiss again, caught by the shadows of eyelashes against cheeks, mesmerized by the flex of jaws and lips, the sounds they made, mouths and breath and almost groans and bodies leaning together, hot and hard, enclosing her beneath them.  
  
Nate nipped at him as they parted, the quick flash of his teeth around Sebastian’s bottom lip, a brush of noses again before he leaned back,  _noses, Maker_ , she wanted, body tight and hot and craving touch; just being surrounded by them wasn’t enough.  
  
The blanket beneath her was warm and soft, thick and rich, and it was nothing at all in comparison to their touch as they turned their attention to her.  Two mouths and four hands hot against her skin, she’d forgotten how to talk, curving and pushing against each caress, as they slowly undid every tie and button, the slide of cloth and skin and lips as they stripped her of her clothes.  
  
Nate held her tight against his chest as he sat against the headboard.  She could feel his cock, full and hard, rubbing against her back, even through all his clothes, his mouth wet and firm along her neck, his fingers teasing her breasts, tugging on her nipples, until she felt each pull all the way down through her chest and stomach to the heat between her legs.  
  
She bit her lip at the feel of Sebastian’s hands on her thighs, spreading her open, the brush of his lips against the soft skin inside her legs.  Her teeth lost their grip and she cried out, loud and wordless, when his tongue slid inside her.  And again when his mouth moved up, finding the throbbing ache of heat and need and licking.    
  
Nate’s hands were warm, his calluses rubbing against the smooth skin above her ribs as they moved down over her stomach, pushing down even as her hips tried to lift, rising up against Sebastian’s mouth.  Nate’s teeth scraped gently against her ear, the sudden sensation making her body jerk, Sebastian easily shifting with every movement she made, his lips and tongue pressed against her, tasting, taking, pleasure and heat and the hum of his breath when he moved his mouth.  
  
She didn’t know what to do with her hands, fingers digging into the blanket beneath her as her stomach tightened under Nate’s touch, pressure building low inside her, a shiver down her thighs as Sebastian’s grip shifted against her skin, the stroke of his tongue and the brush of his chin and his nose making her breath catch, ragged and loud, over and over again.  
  
 _Maker, yes, I’ve never, I can’t_ , it was different, two of them, so much to feel at once, two voices, two mouths, two separate sources of heat, building her up and up until she felt she would burst into flame.  
  
Instead her head snapped back, her voice back only long enough to cry out, one long yes as she came apart between them.    
  
Sebastian shifted slowly up her body, hands and breath soothing against skin, until his thumb reached her mouth, gently tracing her lips, his voice a murmur by her ear, and then he and Nate were kissing again.  She ached, her muscles loose and her brain hazy, but it was such a good ache, listening to them, watching them, imagining Nate tasting her slick on Sebastian’s tongue, feeling the shift of Nate’s cock against her back.  
  
Feeling Sebastian’s hand slowly slide back down her body, fingers gentle, lightly following the curves of her breasts, then down the slope of her stomach, a detour to run the back of his nails along her thighs before his hand reached between her legs, his fingers pushing inside her.  
  
She spread her legs as wide as they could go with a groan catching in her chest, leaning back against Nate, pushing back against him hard enough she could feel the tightness of his chest as he tried to breathe.  Not that she was breathing much either, a shallow whine as she closed her eyes again, tilting her hips up into Sebastian’s hand, the slide and curve of his fingers rubbing inside her making her hands clench in the blanket again, her body tightening, wanting.  She let out a deep ragged moan when he pulled his hand out again, her eyes opening as she looked for his face, ready to beg.   _More._     
  
Instead she saw his fingers, and she opened her mouth to take them in.  She sucked her own slick off his skin, unable and uninterested in suppressing the shiver as he turned his fingers between her lips, a teasing stroke against the top of her mouth.  His hand slid forward, just a little, the stroke stopping as he reached her teeth, an almost tug between her lips.  
  
Bethany leaned forward, following the motion, and Sebastian purred, a rich rough yes whispered in front of her.  She moved again when his hand did, pulling her forward as she slid against the blanket, until she was on her hands and knees, and he pulled his fingers free.  
  
Even as his mouth replaced his hand, the warm pressure of lips and tongue, she felt Nate’s hands between her legs.  Then Nate’s cock, the heavy brush of the crown before he shifted his hips and started to push.  She groaned, mouth falling open as she lost the kiss, lost thought, toes curling as she pushed back, feeling Nate, hard and hot, slowly filling her.  
  
Sebastian shifted, his cheek against hers, his hands in her hair, the sharp tug of teeth on her ear making her shiver, her breath heavy as she mouthed at a fold of his shirt across his shoulder, her fingers clenching in the blanket as Nate slowly pulled out of her.  
  
"Please," she managed a soft whisper, then Nate pushed forward again and she gasped, eyes rolling back even as Sebastian’s hands tightened, pulling her head back as he tugged on her hair.  His mouth landed on the bared skin of her neck, at first just a kiss, lips and tongue, and then he started to suck, and at the bite of teeth her body bucked, Nathaniel’s grip tightening as he rolled his hips, rubbing inside her even as Sebastian marked her skin.  
  
"Please what, milady?"  He moved up on his knees as he spoke, so all she had to do was rub her cheek against the bulge beneath his trousers in answer.  
  
 _More._  
  
He obliged with the slightest of shivers, his fingers a caress against her skin before he undid the ties of his breeches and pushed them down his thighs out of the way.  
  
He tasted almost sweet when she licked his crown, no taint in his blood, a better diet than game and field rations.  Or maybe it was just him, a good man,  _a good cock_ , heavy and warm on her tongue.  
  
And then Nate thrust again, pushing her into Sebastian, pushing his cock down her throat until she couldn’t breathe, everything tight, _so tight,_ _so full, oh Maker_.  They both rolled back, enough she could take one giant gasp of air, and then they did it again, and again, until her head was spinning and her vision went black with each slow blink as her body clenched, a burn down her throat and a throb between her legs.  
  
She wanted to beg, even if she wasn’t sure for what, but she couldn’t talk around Sebastian, couldn’t think as she felt Nate shift, pressure and heat building inside her.  
  
Not that she needed to think.  Not that any of them needed to think, the push of their bodies together, the spill of hot seed down her throat, between her legs, the shudder of muscles as they all lost control, one after another, Sebastian’s soft moan and the rasp of Nate’s breathing and her own silent curve of spine as everything tightened together.  
  
 _Maker, yes._


	4. hope

Bethany woke up slowly.  She rather wished she hadn’t.  She rubbed at her face, trying not to wince at sore eyes and an aching head and stiff arms.

"Hmdfka," Nathaniel’s grunt in her ear wasn’t actual words, his arms tightening around her as he shifted his hips beneath them.

She fallen asleep in the library, in an armchair, the fire down to coals, the lanterns all shuttered, the drapes drawn over the window.  Before the Taint, and the Deep Roads, she would have thought it pitch black, but now she knew better, knew how to blink and focus on the line of Nathaniel’s profile in the gloom.

"Ceremony’s at dawn."  His voice was rough, the rasp thicker than usual, the movement of his lips almost mesmerizing as the dim red glow caught and shifted and highlighted each shift of face and lips.  "Too early for news."

She nodded, knowing that he’d feel the motion against his shoulder, even if he couldn’t quite see it.

She hated waiting.

It was easier with company, the slow steady brush of his thumbs, back and forth, almost as slow as as the lift of his chest against her side as he breathed.

 _Maker,_  she wasn’t quite sure when she’d fallen in love with him, but now it was hard to imagine how she’d have survived this night without him.

He sighed once, when a settling log made her jump, a spark of light highlighting the crease between his brows, and it was a comfort she never would have expected, that he was worried too.  

Nathaniel had only met him twice, after all, didn’t have that one year of almost peace before the Deep Roads took her, the ashes of dozens of burned letters lingering in the back of his thoughts.

It had been a memorable pair of encounters though, violence and sex and regret and now, maybe, hope.

She’d never thought she’d be thankful for the way the Wardens wiped one’s past clean, for the second chance they provided, no questions asked, to anyone who was willing and able to fight for them.

If they were lucky, and the Joining didn’t kill him.

If he didn’t hate them for all the things they couldn’t warn him of before hand, of nightmares and duty and darkness and accepting, sometimes, methods that seemed almost as evil as the enemies they were fighting.

Her breath caught at the sudden warmth of Nathaniel’s lips against her cheek, the soft brush of his breath as he whispered against her skin.  "You’re thinking too much again."

She managed half a laugh, shifting more comfortably against his shoulder, letting her eyes close as she sighed.  "I do seem to have that problem."

"Stop it then."

"Oh, because you never  _brood_  over a problem for three days before even admitting it exists out loud in proper words?"

Nathaniel’s snort made the hair on the back of her neck rise as she tried not to giggle from the tickle of his breath.  "I never brood, don’t be silly."

Her laughter broke so suddenly out of her throat she almost coughed, her elbow digging into his side as her body curved, gasping for air.  

"Ha ha."  He kissed her forehead when she finally settled, and she smiled, breathing in the scent of his skin and his shirt, the faint warmth of the fire as they settled quietly back into waiting.

She jerked awake again at the sound of the door opening, startled to realize she’d managed to doze off again, even as her hands clenched and her brows tightened and she wasn’t sure she could breathe.

And then the messenger in the doorway grinned at them, and she forgot all about waiting, ignoring stiff joints from sleeping in a chair as she staggered to her feet and grabbed Nathaniel’s hand, stumbling towards the hallway so they’d be waiting by his bed in the infirmary when he woke up.

Sebastian Vael, newest Grey Warden recruit.  He’d look good in Warden  blue.

And out of it, but she’d give him some time to recuperate before reminding them all of that.


	5. PDA

She hadn’t been subtle about her relationship with Sebastian.  She hadn’t explained it to anyone, either, but she’d dragged him back to the Wardens after Kirkwall exploded, and hovered by his bedside while he recovered from his Joining, so it was obvious there was something there.

Especially obvious for the few people who’d noticed their correspondence over the years.  Or, well, _the_  person who had noticed.

Namely Sigrun.

_Nosy dwarf.  Peeking at other people’s mail._

Nate knew, of course, because he was part and parcel of it, but he wasn’t talking either.  To be perfectly honest, she was enjoying the quiet curious hum in the background as everyone tried to figure them out.

Bethany had never been mysterious in her life.  Hidden, perhaps. Secret, definitely.  But it didn’t hold the same allure as the warmth below her stomach, the smile that kept trying to find its way across her face at the oddest moments, the sense that he was, perhaps,  _hers,_  and no one else knew.

And then she gave it all away.

She hadn’t known he was up yet, certainly hadn’t know he’d gotten himself outfitted, hadn’t  _expected .._.

But she should have.  Couldn’t have.  Ought to have?

She stopped mid-stride, only a few steps into the dining hall, recognizing the shape of shoulders in Warden blue.  He turned at her footsteps, and  _oh those eyes,_  blue on blue, impossibly blue, only highlighted by the darker shade of his uniform, and she forgot how to breathe.  

His shoulders shifted back just a bit as he met her gaze, and her breath started again with a stutter.  She tried to keep her eyes on his face, but the drape of his uniform was both so familiar,  _Wardens everywhere,_  and yet so very different from his old armor that she couldn’t stop imagining the planes of his chest and stomach and hips beneath it all, and her skin flushed hot enough she could feel the warmth of cheeks and neck and breasts beneath her blouse.

Nate almost ran right into her, he’d been just a step behind, and he made such a sound, a broken almost groan deep in his throat, and she could see Sebastian’s gaze shift, just enough to look at Nate’s face over her shoulder, and even from across the room she could see the dark in his eyes deepen, and it was hard to swallow past a tangled mix of need and want and surprise and something that might have been love.

It was probably just a moment, though it felt an eternity, but of course they were not alone, the stillness broken by a rough laughing cough from the table by the fire as Sigrun,  _of course it was Sigrun, always Sigrun, precious awful brilliant dwarf,_  figured it all out by watching one heated staring contest.

Bethany found she couldn’t find it in herself to mind, because it was worth it, this first startled sight of him, tall and lean and blue and strong and there, right in front of her, and able to stay, at least for awhile.

The only way being a Warden was bearable was to seize what joy was possible each and every moment, to wring it from the day whether the Maker wished to part with it or not.

So she took the few steps remaining between them, and gripped the sides of his new tabard, blue between her fingers, leaning in until all she could see was the blue of his eyes slowly disappearing as his eyelids slid closed, the brush of his eyelashes almost touching her skin.

She admired the view for another breath, slow and heavy, shadows on skin and the line of his cheeks and jaws.  Then it was time, inevitable, inexorable, the pull of his heat and the ache in her chest, leaning forward, just enough to feel his lips on hers, to hum against his mouth until their lips moved together, warm and slow and achingly sweet.

She could hear the stutter in Sebastian’s sigh as they slowly separated, shared breath warm and wet against their mouths before Nate’s warmth at her side enticed her to turn, to blink, to watch as Nate kissed him, one hand curved along the back of Sebastian’s neck, holding him close and secure, their bodies leaning in towards each other.

_Maker._

She wanted to climb all over them.  Or alternatively, grab them tight and push herself up on her toes and shove them back across one of the tables.  But even Wardens, as easy going as they tended to be about such things, did not encourage fucking where other people needed to eat.

 _Where we need to eat._ Warden appetites, after all, most especially for the newly Joined. 

_Food first.  Food and more food for our Sebastian._

_Then highly inappropriate propositions._


	6. Formalities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [band-of-three](http://band-of-three.tumblr.com/post/55616045705) generated a [prompt](http://www.scattereddelusions.com/avs/DAPrompts.html) for Nathaniel Howe / Sebastian Vael _in uniform ... which called to me as soon as I saw it. <3_

The Commander was trying to kill her.  Bethany didn’t care that it had taken near a year’s worth of planning, that it was supposed to help improve relations with the Bannorn, or even that the King and Queen themselves were due later that afternoon for the opening speeches of the Tourney; it was obviously a plot aimed  _against her._

She hadn’t even known the Wardens  _made_  ceremonial armor, and it ought to have been a ridiculous thought once she did, but all those gilt edges and blue silks came together once  _they_ were wearing them.  

She was aware she was biased in favor of Sebastian’s hips and Nathaniel’s shoulders, of course, but most of the sparring yard had gone suspiciously quiet after the initial fitting of the new armor, when they were making sure they still had proper range of movement on the archery range, _everyone watching._ She’d intercepted more than a few speculative looks in their direction since then, and even gotten a hearty congratulatory slap on the back from Marina regarding her lucky taste in men.

Sigrun just laughed, every time she caught Bethany’s eyes.

But really, now that the day was finally here she was going to  _die,_  because of course it was their job to win the Archery Exhibition for the Wardens, and she was going to just have to  _stand there and watch_  without actually staring too obviously or blushing or saying something horribly inappropriate at the sight of it all because the Commander had chosen her as part of the Honor Guard and she’d be right in the royal pavilion where anyone too political to appreciate the form of longbow archers in stunning blue tabards was guaranteed to see her. _  
_

She hadn’t been this flustered since she was 9 and they’d lived in Lothering and her father had taken her to meet Ser Bryant, the head Templar at the local Chantry.

Twenty years,  _Blight and exile and Wardens and loss_ , and all it took was two men in fancy dress and a formal occasion to turn her into a blushing child again.

Well.

Her thoughts were certainly not those of a child.

 _What is it about too many well tailored layers that makes it impossible to think about anything except_ taking them off?


	7. first impressions (AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two separate AU prompts, for Squire Nathaniel and Rake Sebastian to have met, somehow, _before_ ... these are both [erika's](http://whyswhoswhats.tumblr.com/) fault. <3

> for a letter/diary meme on tumblr: "would it be in poor taste to ask for my favorite howe writing in his journal about meeting sebastian during his time in kirkwall as a squire :x"

_I have finally met someone who wishes to be here even less than I do._

_Unfortunately he is an arrogant twit, and he flirts with every servant at the Keep when he’s at Court rather than paying attention to much of anything beyond his nose._

_He is also one of the few decent archers in this whole City.  They have no walls to protect, no proud history to defend. They don’t seem to value anything besides the weight of steel, whether it be armor or chains, and I cannot believe the only person worth a run through at the practice court is a snotty princeling who never bothers to show up for breakfast._

_Or if he does it’s only because he’s still in his clothes from the night before._

_As if facing an Orlesian style buffet every morning wasn’t dreadful enough all on its own._

_I never thought I’d miss porridge._

* * *

> or, potentially sweeter and sadder, if they met in Starkhaven, instead; "some Nathaniel-squired-to-the-Vaels AU. 8D"

Sebastian would probably have liked the new squire regardless, a young man both sardonic and clever; observant enough to understand the dynamics of their Court, kind enough not to mention all the ways in which Sebastian failed within them.

They became friends in the practice yard, archery and daggers and the occasional clandestine sneak into town, and for once Sebastian’s family was quietly approving, because he wasn’t avoiding his duties or his kin, he was  _helping the foster._ And as thanks for that small amount of grace, Sebastian would have given him anything, if he had ever thought to ask.


End file.
